


The Three Princes

by PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Confident Thief Fitzroy, M/M, PJ is bad at everything, Sheltered Amir, Usurper Percy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart/pseuds/PrinxOfTheFlamingHeart
Summary: Season One, except Sir Percy uses the Two King’s disappearance and the bad reputation of the Knight Commander to take control of what’s left of the army in a bid to seize the throne. Lavinia flees to the Forest’s edge and hides amongst the common folk, raising her son as best she can. Fitzroy the Thief grows up to be a thorn in Prince Percy Jr’s side. PJ is under immense pressure to catch the thief and prove himself worthy. He follows Fitz into the forest, causing Fitzroy to cross paths with Prince Amir, a sheltered Eastern Prince who left his castle a month early to get enough experience to stand on his own after hearing the prophecy for the first time. This time, it’ll take more than Two Princes to unravel the mysteries in the forest.
Relationships: Prince Amir & Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast), Prince Amir/Prince Rupert (Two Princes Podcast)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. Prologue: Pushed to the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Western and Eastern Kings, bastards they may be, have fallen. The remnants of the Western Army rallies around a single figure still obsessed with control, Sir Percy. Disgraced at the loss on the battlefield and the loss of his King, Knight-Champion Arcani loses his men to Percy’s bid for the throne and decides to take action, sending word to the castle. Lavinia and Lord Chamberlain discuss the unpleasantness ahead of them as Sir Percy comes to take the throne.

Beneath the dungeons, far below the gilt, glitz and glamor of the Western Castle, the Lord Chamberlain opened a passageway that hadn’t seen use in generations. Glowing mold cast them in a green glow. This place was known only to the absolute few. King Frederick was confident, but crafty. He had seen to it that should the unthinkable happen, his bloodline would continue.

“Lord Chamberlain,” Queen Lavinia said, balking at the dusty, dirty tunnel, “there must be some other way.”

Chamberlain sighed, adjusting the bundle on his chest. “Lavinia, there is no other choice. You must take that child and run. Knight-Champion Arcani risked his life to alert us to Percy’s plan. Arc is doing his best to delay Percy but as soon as he sets foot in the castle he’ll have you arrested and you and your bloodline killed.”

Lavinia knew all of this, she’d heard the message from the arrow-riddled messenger. But her doubt remained. “Percy must not know about the Prophecy! He’ll be dooming the kingdom. Both kingdoms!”

Chamberlain shook his head. “I believe Percy knows and does not care. As long as he can take control he will. With Frederick and Arcani out of the way he’ll eliminate any obstacles to become king. With the looming threat of the curse and the power vacuum, he has already set in motion plans to do so.”

“How do you know he could succeed? We could fight.” Lavinia stood taller, clutching her bundled baby firmly. “A siege favors our side. The knights here are loyal to their queen.”

“They are boys and old men and Percy is their leader. He ingratiated himself to many soldiers during the conflicts and now holds the most sway. And he comes with an army." Chamberlain paused and shook his head. "One freshly acquainted with destroying a castle.”

“What’s left of an army!” Lavinia said before crumpling. “Curse Arcani for a fool and my husband as well for not calling their retreat.”

“Your husband is cursed,” Chamberlain reminded her. “And Arcani sent word ahead, on the only messenger to retain his horse. The army will arrive on foot in a day. I’ve taken the liberty to bind Arc’s message and all we know of this curse into a book for you. Hide it until you are safe.”

“It would be safer to burn it!” Lavinia said, eying the book as Chamberlain placed it in a pack and helped her put it on.

Chamberlain shrugged. “Do as you will Lavinia. You always do. I advise against it. Your heir will have to face another prince in that hollow in just eighteen years. They both must be prepared. And you will not have the benefit of hiding away in this castle.”

Lavinia took a step toward the tunnel and turned back. “Where will I go? Surely my family’s estate would serve me no better. Mother barely has a boy servant to take the flowers and herbs to the market. All of our guards were drafted to the war.”

“I cannot tell you and I must never know.” Chamberlain helped her across the threshold, steadying her as she got used to the rough stone of the tunnel. “If I am caught...”

The thought didn’t bear discussion, Lavinia decided. “Don’t get caught. More lives than yours would be in danger. If they even suspect you have...”

Chamberlain placed a hand on her shoulder. The bundles between them touched for a moment. “You are a smart woman Lavinia. You will know when you find it. Change everything about yourself and do nothing to stand out. Now go!” Chamberlain closed the door behind her, and strange mushrooms began to glow in the absence of the torchlight.

As Lavinia hurried along the secret passageway, she muttered to herself. “I’ll know it when I find it? If no place in this kingdom is safe, I can’t stay here. Can’t go home. Can’t go to the East. Atossa might not kill a baby but she could surely order someone else to do it. If she even survived her husband’s absence. Ugh! Damn you Frederick! You bastard! Going and getting yourself cursed and leaving me alone with all your enemies? Damn you.”

As Lavinia reached the end of the passageway she recognized the river at the edge of the Western capital. Glancing back for one last look at the castle, she sighed. It hadn’t been home for long, but it was all she had in the world. Except. Except now she didn’t have it. Looking down at the newborn carefully concealed in her cloak, she kissed his head and adjusted her pack. “My dearest Rupert. Had I not been so foolish as to blab on and on about it just because your father let me choose one name...well I’ll just choose another.”

Just then the small babe erupted in a series of hiccups. Patting his back gently, Lavinia found the road beside the river and walked as quickly as she could away from the capitol. “Well don’t start having fits now. Hm. Fits. Flint. Fritz? No. Wish I had my baby name book instead of this one.” She adjusted the strap on her pack carefully, Chamberlain’s book was heavier than it looked.

As she sank into the depths of her concentration she didn’t hear a horse and cart behind her until the driver called out a warning. Stepping quickly aside, Lavinia watched as it passed. Her heart stopped nearly as suddenly as the cart did.

She froze in fear for a moment, dreading assassins or worse until a peasant’s head poked around from the front. “Heading out late are you miss? I can give you a lift. I live out by the forest.”  
  
Lavinia smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

“Oh? Moving out of the city? All by your lonesome?” The man asked as he stepped down to help her into the cart. She noticed a slight limp in his step, but thought little of it. A small girl was the only other occupant, her dark skin standing in contrast to her golden hair.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. What's your name, sweetie?” Lavinia asked, turning to address the young girl.

“My name is Joan, ma'am,” the girl said politely.

The man tousled Joan's hair and turned to Lavinia. “Your man one of those we lost? No family around to support a widow? And a new mother besides?” The man signaled the horse to continue and Lavinia adjusted to the bumpy ride. Thankfully, the motion didn’t disturb her son.

“That’s exactly right,” Lavinia confirmed, glad that he’d come up with a story for her. “There’s nothing for me or my son in this city.”

The man nodded grimly. “Well, I would be glad to help you get your feet under you in my village. Are you handy? Weaver? Sewer?”

“I...I know plants. I’ve grown some prize winners in my day,” Lavinia said, opting to fail to mention the plants were flowers and the prizes were awarded by her mother.

“Ah! Well Auntie would be glad to have an apprentice help her with her potion making!” He said, excitedly. Lavinia got the impression that 'Auntie' was getting on in years and the job would be more babysitting than apprenticeship.

“A witch?” Lavinia asked, concerned.

“An herbalist! Although her brews have been called magical,” the man said with a laugh.

“Oh, what’s your name?” He asked.

“La...Lily. My name is Lily,” Lavinia said.

“Well it suits you, and your new job! I’m Hatcher.”

Lavinia took a guess, based on the woodchips littering the floor. “And are you a woodsman, then?”

“You have it on the nose, Miss Lily!” Hatchet replied with more laughter. Lavinia laughed in spite of herself. As they fell into companionable silence, Lavinia-now-Lily, felt sure life would be much more plain, but bearable


	2. Once Upon a Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitzroy the thief is sent on an important errand but another person has picked up the item he needed. What follows is some flirting, a little stealing, and a lot of running. Just as he manages to get rid of one prince, Fitz finds another. Meanwhile, Lily meets someone who knows.

To his credit, Fitz actually tried to obtain the item his mother wanted the right way but the shopkeeper jacked the price up when he heard Prince Percy wanted it. Trust an old village merchant to take advantage of the situation. Fitzroy personally doubted how effective it would be anyway; the merchant had had the venom for years. Hydra’s venom was exceedingly rare anyway, but its few practical uses usually meant it was within the realm of possibility for a buyer with enough coin. How anyone had come into contact with a hydra and survived was beyond him. His concern was getting the vial back from Prince Percy before he left the village. 

Getting into the prince’s carriage was the easy part. Fitzroy, legendary thief of the Forbidden Forest (or so he called himself), slipped inside while the prince and his men were in the village pub. The hard part was getting into the locked chest under the seat. That was sure to be where the prince locked the vial that Fitzroy needed. 

Picking the lock took time and effort, but he managed it sooner than he expected. Grabbing the vial, Fitzroy gave a thought about grabbing all the gold inside as well but opted only to grab some of the coins and stuff them in his pouch. As he stepped down from the carriage, he nearly bumped into the prince. Prince Percy was stunned, trying to piece together who he’d run into and why that person had been in his carriage. 

“Terribly sorry, young man, please excuse me and my poor eyesight,” Fitzroy said in a strange voice, before he excused himself politely and made to walk away. 

The absurdity of such a young man adopting an older persona without any disguise to speak of made Percy Jr pause. Finally, he saw the open trunk on the carriage floor and Percy shouted. “Stop! Thief!”

Fitz ran. The twists and turns of the village made it easy to get some distance but Percy’s men had the numbers advantage. As he slipped into an alley, he sighed in relief as the men went passed. Turning around, he nearly ran into the point of Prince Percy’s sword. 

Fitzroy sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Look, Princey, I’m flattered but honestly this is getting a little desperate. There are easier ways to get my attention. Why don't you ever court me properly?”

Percy tapped the point of his sword against Fitzroy’s chest. “Silence, thief! I don’t even know your name let alone have any desire to court you! My father brings me the finest ladies in the land. And you! You have stolen from me for the last time.

Fitzroy nodded. “That you do. You have me dead to rights. So just plunge the sword in like you’ve always wanted to...”

Percy scoffed. “And stain my fine clothes with your common blood? My men will be here shortly.”

The thief fluttered his eyes. “Oh we both know that’s not the sword I meant.”

The prince’s face reddened at an alarming rate. “I-I don’t know what you are insinuating.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it,” Fitz said casually. “So stop lying to yourself. Have you ever even kissed a girl?”

“I shan’t be drawn into such a tawdry conversation.” Percy glanced away, his expression giving away his inner thoughts. Belatedly he added, “And yes I have!”

Fitz saw through the lie. “Queen Marjorie doesn’t count.”

“You leave my step-mother out of this!” Percy pouted. 

Fitz laughed. “I bet you’ve never even danced with a girl.”

Percy lowered his sword and placed a hand on his hip. “I have no time for dancing. My schedule is full of learning what I must to do my duties.”

“I’m sure you’ll do your duties,” Fitzroy said, nodding sagely. “And then do some more duties with oh, I don’t know. A guardsman? Some traveling male dancer? What is your type? Big and muscle-y? Slim and sexy...” Winking, Fitz casually ran a hand down his side and gave his hip a subtle shake. 

“H-hold your tongue or I will cut it off,” Percy said, raising the sword for emphasis. It was shaking, though, and Fitz raised an eyebrow. Steadying it with both hands, Percy looked incredibly red. Fitz noticed Percy wouldn’t look him in the eyes though. 

“I’d rather you held my tongue,” Fitz said, causing the prince to become even more red, which he hadn’t thought possible. 

“I don’t understand you! How can you be so ... so brazen?” Percy said, both arms shaking now as he glanced away. He lowered the sword again, holding it loosely in one hand. 

“Have you ever noticed how much you look away when you’re embarrassed?” Before the prince could reply, the thief knocked the sword from Percy Junior’s hand and plucked it out of the air. Turning it back on its owner, he smiled. “You need another lesson or two on avoiding disarmament.”

“Please don’t kill me.” Percy said miserably. 

“Oh and ruin all our games? Not to mention your fine clothes!” Fitz sighed. “Hands up. Close your eyes. I have one more thing to steal.”

As he complied, Percy Junior frowned. “And what else is there? You have that vial from my carriage and my sword. What more do you want, Fitzoy?”

“I knew it. You remembered my name from last time.” As Fitz spoke, Percy realized how close the thief was. “I just want...this.”

Percy felt the thief’s lips brush against his cheek and froze, his brain seemingly blown out like a candle. Before he knew it, the thief was at the end of the alleyway just as his men rounded the corner from the other direction. His belt was around his feet and his scabbard was gone. 

“After him! He stole my sword!” Percy called, scrabbling on the ground for his belt. 

Before he disappeared, Fitz taunted. “And your first kiss!”

As his men passed by, he thought he heard one smother a snort. Enraged, Percy snapped back. “It wasn't my first kiss!" At the muffled laughter, Percy belatedly added, "He didn't kiss me! We-we didn't... He’s lying!” 

It was easy to get lost in the twisted little shantytown. Several displaced villages called this place home now. Kept away from the capital by the king’s guards, they had no other choice. As the forest encroached on the kingdom, the slowly traveling village moved ahead of it. The layout therefore changed even day to day. It was Fitzroy's misfortune that several guardsmen seemed to be in town that day as well. In no time, he was ducking and running from at least three villages' worth of guardsmen. Luckily, their armor and polearms made them easy to spot and easy to hide from. By late afternoon, Fitzroy finally made it past the guards at the edge of town and plunged into the forest.

  


"Lavinia, it's time," Hatcher said as he entered without knocking. 

Without turning around, she responded. "No, the potions won't be ready until at least..." Her brain shuddered to a stop as she realized he’d called her Lavinia. Not Lily. 

"You know what I mean." The tone of his voice caught her attention and reminded her strongly of another voice from her past. "Your majesty." 

Fighting the strong sense of unease in her, she turned to face the man she thought she knew. "So, we finally get to the truth. Who are you really?"

"I served my king. Frederick was not a good person but he was the rightful ruler. My final orders were to steal a cart at the first opportunity and rescue you,” Hatcher said. “It was vital you didn’t know my true mission.”

"So you knew me right away?" Lavinia asked. 

Hatcher nodded. "I knew where the tunnel let out. I reasoned that Chamberlain would make use of it. I waited until I saw you leave it and then intercepted you."

Lavinia regarded him carefully. Only a handful knew of the tunnel. She set her hands in her apron pockets. “And your daughter?"

"She is...his,” Hatcher said finally. “Arc's daughter. Picked her up before I got to you."

"Where do your loyalties lie that you didn't tell me earlier?" Lavinia asked, her hand closing around the knife inside of her apron pocket. 

"I swear on my grave, Your Majesty, I serve only you. And if it makes you feel better to stab me with that knife in your hand, so be it.” Hatcher closed his eyes. 

She stepped to him and placed the knife at his neck. “Then tell me your real name."

His eyes fluttered open. Lavinia looked into his grey eyes and she was suddenly reminded of a knight who was constantly by Frederick's side. That knight had a beard, neatly trimmed and oiled, unlike the clean-shaven man before her. He'd worn his hair in sweet-smelling dreadlocks, unlike the bald man before her. But the eyes and his expression were unmistakable. She lowered the knife.

"His name is Arcani, your husband's Knight Champion. As you have likely guessed, Your Majesty." The voice came from the door. 

Lavinia regarded the young boyish-looking, armor-clad individual standing in her doorway. "You didn't tell me you had a son, Arc."

As she removed her helmet, Joan bowed her head.

Arcani watched Lavinia's surprise turn into acceptance. "A lady knight? How very progressive of you."

He indicated his leg. "I knew I didn't have it in me to fight Percy and his men. I contented myself on training a suitable replacement. One makes do with what they have and I only had a daughter. But, she is amazing and loyal and a credit to her father."

Lavinia crooked an eyebrow and smirked. "If she is anything like her father, she'll do nicely."

"She's better," he admitted with a grin. "Now where is the prince?"

“I sent him on an errand. I’ve saved for years to obtain the hydra’s venom in this backwoods village and finally I shall have it. Or Fitzroy will steal it. Either way is fine,” Lavinia said with a shrug. 

“Prince Percy obtained it today. That and how close we are to the prophecy is why I came to see you,” Arcani said. 

“If Percy is after the venom, and if Fitz has stolen it from him, then it will only be a matter of time before they come here. Whether Fitz leads them here or they get told by a villager, it doesn’t matter,” Lavinia started gathering things. She passed a vial from the counter to Arcani and another like it to Joan. “Spread that around. Floor walls, ceiling, everything!”

Hastily scrawling a note, she belated realized there was already a fire set in the oven. “Out! Everyone! Now!” 

Arc and Joan hesitated. Finally, Joan pushed Arcani towards the door. “Go father, I’ll get her out.”

“My queen! We must go,” Joan urged as she approached. 

Lavinia shoved her note into a chest and stuck the chest under a bed. “Let’s go then!”

“What was in those vials?” Joan asked as they left the house.

The house erupted in flames behind them. 

  


Stopping to relax, Fitzroy took a look at the item his mother had sent him to get. The vial of hydra’s venom was safely stoppered and wrapped in a cocoon of cloth. He took another moment to belt Percy Junior’s sword and scabbard on his hip. Leisurely he began the walk home. 

“There he is!” The voice was unmistakable.

“He is Percy-stent today,” Fitzroy muttered to himself as he took off at a decidedly less-leisurely pace. 

He knew the Forest by heart now, even with how it had grown. Things had a tendency to change but the major landmarks never moved. Navigating the hidden dangers took a lot of concentration and observation. Fitzroy did his best to lead his would-be captors into trouble, but they were relentless.

As he turned to glance back it was more than a surprise for him to hit something. It was even more remarkable that the thing he hit moved, frantically grabbing him as it fell. Fitzroy had a moment to realize they were falling into a hole in the ground and then he was suddenly in darkness.

Fitzroy landed on top of the other person but then bounced free and landed on his back in dirt. There was some tunnel in this hole, but glowing mushrooms gave faint light. The person he’d struck groaned and gingerly picked himself out of the slimy mushrooms he’d landed in.

This other person sat up and spoke. “Ugh, these mushrooms smell like the stables when the horses have been sick. They are foul! Eww.” 

Fitzroy resisted the urge to blister the air with curses. “Well that’s fine, as long as they don’t start smelling better.”

In the dim light, Fitz could make out a few features of the other boy, who was now sniffing himself. “Actually, now that you mention it.”

“Uh-oh,” Fitz said as the smell in the tunnel improved. 

“That’s weird. It’s like a bowl of jasmine. And a little cinnamon. And hot chocolate. With toasted marshmallow,” the young man said, laughing. 

Fitzroy checked himself over. He’d thankfully not gotten very much of the mushroom slime on himself. Rubbing dirt on the spots he found, he turned to warn the other boy. 

And realized the boy was walking past him deeper into the tunnel. A melodic voice rang out through the halls. It was an attractive voice, but Fitz knew it would be irresistible for the other boy. “Oh no.” 

Drawing his sword, he walked slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. When he reached the end of the tunnel he flattened himself against the wall and peered out into the clearing. The boy was entranced by the biggest literal man-eater, Flora. 

“Just come a bit closer, dear. That’s right. Let my tendrils of love embrace you,” Flora cooed. 

“You are, like, really hot. And I have to say this whole ‘gardening and bondage’ thing you have got going is really...hot. It’s also really warm in here. And humid. Like a sauna back home,” Fitz shook his head as the mushroom-addled boy babbled, seemingly oblivious about the danger he was in. 

Fitzroy leapt into the clearing like a bolt from the blue. Flora was distracted by drawing in her willing prey. He had the vines severed before Flora knew he was there and her head off just after that. “Oh man I've never even trained with this; that was lucky! C’mon Mushroom Boy. You’ll have to get eaten some other time.”

“Duuude, way to ruin the vibe. We were just chilling!” The mushroom-coated boy complained. 

Pushing the delirious boy ahead of him, Fitzroy shook his head. “Believe me, you would have been chilling without a pulse in a few more moments. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk to strange plants?” Fitzroy started rubbing handfuls of dirt on the boy to nullify the mushroom smell. 

“My mother never taught me anything,” the boy said sadly. “She said she’d heard this rumor that people were trying to kill us so she kept me in the castle. I mostly read random books in the library.” The mushroom juice smell seemingly wore off as the boy spoke. 

They looked up at the hole, the boys stared up at the sunlight. It was tantalizingly close but too high for either of them to reach. 

“Give me a boost then,” Fitzroy said. 

“Uh, who do you think you’re talking to? I’m a prince, you boost me up. I’ll help you out, you have my word,” Mushroom Boy promised. 

Fitz smirked. “No good. I’ve known too many princes. And what kind of lie is that anyway? The only prince in the West is Puffy-Sleeves Percy.”

“I’m a prince from the East. THE Prince of the East. Amir. Son of Queen Atossa, Heir to the Golden Throne, Defender of the Burnished Realm, Hero of the Unstained Blade, Protector of the Sacred Flame, Champion of the Eternal Truth,” Amir declared, to Fitzroy’s utter boredom. 

Pretending to clean his nails, Fitz looked up as the silence stretched between them. “Sorry, never heard of you. Wait, what was the fifth one?”

“Hero of the Unstained Blade,” Amir said eagerly. 

Fitzroy scoffed. “Wow you are full of yourself. Also your ‘unstained blade’ is covered in mushroom goop.”

“I order you to boost me out of this hole. You said we don’t have time to argue.” Amir put his hands on his hips. 

Fitzroy removed the sword and sheath from his belt. “Look, I’ll compromise. Here. Hold my sword. You know, the one not coated in fungus juice? Boost me up and I promise I’ll lift you out.”

Amir took the sword and paused to think. “Fine, hand me your bag too.”

Fitzroy clutched the strap of his bag. “What? Why?”

“So I can be sure you won’t leave me. You offered that sword pretty quickly. I bet it’s not even yours,” Amir said confidently. 

Fitzroy stopped himself from mentioning that technically it wasn’t his bag either and sighed. “Fine.”

Handing the sword and bag to the Champion of the Eternal Truth, Fitzroy waited while the prince turned his back to look for something in his pack. Taking advantage of the distraction, the thief deftly lightened his belt by removing the pouch tied to it. Amir didn’t seem to notice, and Fitzroy was surprised when Amir turned back around and handed him a length of rope. 

“You might’ve mentioned that you had this sooner!” Fitzroy complained. 

Amir shrugged. “No time. Hurry.”

With Amir’s boost, Fitzroy grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled himself out. Tying one end of the rope around a tree, Fitzroy let the rest drop into the hole. Amir emerged moments later. Fitz was slightly impressed that the prince had managed to pull himself, his own bag, Fitz’s bag and sword out. 

As Amir lay catching his breath, Fitzroy reclaimed his ill-gotten goods. As he began to check his bag, he felt a rope fall around his middle, pinning his arms to his sides. A second later and he was in the air, feet dangling.

"Heck of a way to thank me," Fitzroy said anrgily.

"Like my rope trick, pretty boy?” Amir asked teasingly. 

“You think I’m pretty?” Fitz asked playfully. 

The boy’s tone changed. “No. That must have been the mushrooms. I think you’re a pretty big idiot.”

“Uh, I’m the pretty idiot who just saved you from a man eating plant,” Fitz said. 

The boy stomped his foot. “After you pushed me down in this hole!”

“I didn’t push you I ran into you. And I wound up down there too.”

He crossed his arms across his chest and glared. “Yeah because I grabbed you. And how come you didn’t get all entranced by that Goddess of Love?”

“One, I’m gay." When this failed to get a reaction, Fitzroy continued. "Two, I wasn’t covered in her mushroom muck. The smell lowers your inhibitions.”

“You could have mentioned that earlier!” The boy said, exasperation plain.

“What, that I’m gay?” Fitz asked.

The boy scoffed. “No, I could care less about your mood. I mean the inhibition-lowering slime!”

Fitz shrugged. “Well I was just about to but then your hormone-coated butt just had to go and run off to the Garden of Delights!”

“How do you know so much about this?” Amir asked. 

“I live here.”

“In this hole?”

“What? No!” Fitzroy looked heavenward and then resumed. “In the forest. Speaking of which, who are you really? No one from the East has made it through this forest and nobody from our side has ever made it to yours.”

“I am Amir. Prince of the...” 

Fitzroy cut him off. “Prove it.”

Amir held up his weapon. “Look at my sword. The hilt carries the mark of the Eastern Royal Family. Just like yours carries the mark of the West. Are you a member of the Royal Family?”

“No,” Fitzroy scoffed. “I stole this from Prince Prig himself. Percy Junior hates me. Or loves me. It’s actually kind of cute. One of these days I’ll either end up beheaded or betrothed.”

As an arrow severed the rope just above Fitz's head and buried itself in a tree, Fitz realized his executioner/affianced was still mad at him. “C’mom Peej, lighten up.”

Turning to run, Fitzroy made it some distance before realizing someone was behind him. Like, right behind him. He made a few turns around boulders and trees to lose his pursuer but it was no good. 

Turning around, he realized Amir was tagging along. 

“Why are you following me?” Fitz asked as he allowed Amir to run beside him. 

“I...need someone who knows this forest. As much as it galls me to ask for help from a Westerner and a thief, I must. My map was on my horse when I entered the forest and...”

“Your horse got spooked.” At Amir’s surprised glance, Fitzroy nodded. “Yeah. It’s a thing. Happens to any rider. What does that have to do with me?”

“I can pay you if you’d be my guide,” Amir offered. 

“Uh, your Eastern money probably doesn’t work in the West. I don’t know much, but I don’t think our countries like each other very much. You know, what with that war and all,” Fitzroy said snidely. 

“Then how about this vial of hydra venom?” Amir asked, just as snide. 

Fitzroy stopped in his tracks. Amir barely managed to avoid bumping into him. The thief opened his bag and pulled out the mushroom that Amir put inside to fool him. As he reached for his sword, he felt a sword under his chin. Lifting the end of his sword, Amir forced Fitzroy to meet his eyes. 

“I need to get to the Hollow of the Kings. Do you know it?” Amir asked. 

“Considering it was the one place my mother forbade me to go? Yeah, naturally I know it. There’s a maze of thorns around the Hollow of the Kings. I’ve never been through it. Some have died trying,” Fitzroy said. 

Amir nodded, withdrawing the blade. “Get me that far and I’ll give you back your vial. I shudder to think what you might use it for, but it won’t matter once my journey is complete.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my mom,” Fitzroy lies. “She’s...sick. And that is the only cure.”

“What? How is venom a cure?” Amir asked, incredulous. 

“That is...a great question,” Fitzroy said. “Well, I mean, you mix it with other stuff. I don’t know how it works, my mom is the herbalist.”

Amir reached for his bag and then scoffed. “That’s the biggest load of bull. Hydra’s venom breaks curses and spells, but there’s nothing you can combine with it to make it safe for a human to consume.”

“Not buying that? Okay. She does need the venom. But I don’t know why. She said it was important I get it today. So I can’t help you without delivering it to her. But my house is on the way to the hollow, so two birds one stone!” Fitzroy said by way of compromise. 

“Your mother is an herbalist in the Forbidden Forest?” Amir asked, sheathing his sword. 

Fitzroy sighed and glanced around. He waited for a moment, listening for any sounds that Percy Junior and his men were around. “Well to be fair, it wasn’t the Forbidden Forest when she moved here. But it’s grown, and she refuses to leave her herb garden.”

“But, all the dangerous creatures, how do you survive?” 

“It’s tough. But you learn what and where to avoid. I can teach you as we go.” Fitz offered. 

“Thank you,” Amir said, setting off towards somewhere. 

“Uh, the hollow is that way,” Fitzroy said, pointing in another direction. 

Their journey was mostly quiet. Fitzroy was kicking himself mentally. At least his mother’s home was on the way to the hollow so he could get some supplies and tell her not to worry. What she’d say about him gallivanting around with royalty was likely to be trouble anyway. 

Finally, Amir filled the silence. “I never got your name.”

“Is it important? I’m a westerner and a thief,” Fitz said. 

“And you saved me from the plant. Even if you got me into that mess in the first place," Amir said. "I don’t understand you.” 

“Man if I had a copper piece for every time I’d heard that.” Fitz shook his head. “I’d be a prince!”

“Right,” Amir scoffed. “Prince of thieves more likely.”

“A boy can dream,” Fitzroy replied. 

“Tell me your name,” Amir ordered. 

“It’s Fitzroy. Call me Fitz. What is it with princes bossing me around today?” Fitz asked no one in particular. 

“Well maybe if you didn’t steal from princes then you’d be better off,” Amir suggested. 

“I didn’t steal from you! You stole that vial from me!” Fitzroy said indignantly. 

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice my pouch was missing?” Amir said as he indicated the spot on his belt normally occupied by his pouch. “When did you even do it? While we were falling?”

As Fitzroy handed back a pouch of coins, he shrugged. “Seemed like poor taste to bring it up when you offered to pay me.” 

Amir’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t trust you. And I can’t take my eyes off of you either.”

“That’s flattering. You’re not half-bad-looking yourself, stud.” Fitzroy took a breath through his nose and instantly regretted it. “Although you do smell pretty ripe. Which I can't blame on just the mushrooms, either.”

Amir folded his arms across his chest, self-consciously. “It’s been...a while since I’ve had a bath. And since I can’t trust you with my stuff long enough to take one, you’re gonna have to get used to my funky smell.”

“Well, I’m not the one who needs to get somewhere badly enough to force a thief to navigate." Rupert ducked under a branch and held it out of the way for Amir. "And if it’s any consolation, I’m taking you to my house so you have that much of my trust.”

Warily, Amir passed by the branch, clearly expecting to get struck with it. When he passed and it hadn't, Fitzroy held his hands up as if to say, 'see?' They continued walking, now side by side.

“You only trust me because I have no interest in giving away your little hideout to the Western Kingdom,” Amir said. 

“Well it’s like we say in the West.” Fitzroy said, jumping on a stump for show. “You can trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. And you can trust a prince to act in his own self-interest.”

“I take it your princes are pretty selfish,” Amir inferred as Fitzroy hopped down. 

“Just one prince, thankfully.” Fitz moved a strand of hair from his eyes. “The West couldn’t handle more than two Percy’s. Him and his father.”

“What’s he like?” Amir asked as Fitz skirted around a bush that Amir could've sworn was snoring.

“Percy Junior? PJ? Good ole Peej? Nuttier than a nut loaf. Trains with all sorts of great martial minds but has all the coordination of a fainting goat.” Fitz paused as Amir laughed. The sound was as charming as it was unexpected. “And his father is a real treat. He takes young ladies from all over the kingdom to court the prince but Peej is as bent as a poorly-struck nail. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

"Bent as a what?" Amir asked, confused.

“Speaking of, got a girl or boy back home?" Fitz asked. 

“I’m sorry, have I in any way shown an interest in divulging the intimate details of my personal life?” Amir asked. 

Fitz eyes him warily. “That bad, huh?”

“Jamila is fine.” Amir wouldn’t even look at him. 

“Well there’s a ringing endorsement.” Fitz ‘rang’ an imaginary bell. 

Amir tried again. “She’ll make a fine wife.”

“Oh. Stop. The absolute passion,” Fitz said drily. 

“She is always mindful of her duties?” Amir said as if asking if that was better. 

Fitzroy covered his eyes and groaned. “Oh, for the love of the great wizard who made the universe, spare me the intimate details of your personal life. Sorry I asked!”

“I...I’m fond of her,” Amir said. “Her happiness is important to me, as is that of my subjects.”

Still not looking around, Fitz’s feet found the beginning of the old cobblestone path home. “I’ve never been so glad to almost be home.”

Amir stopped in his tracks. 

Fitzroy noted the sudden stop and turned around. “Look I’m sorry about teasing you okay? I’m sure your girlfriend and you have a ... an exciting relationship.” When Amir didn't respond, Fitz shrugged. “What is it?”

Amir found his voice. “Fitz, I think your home is on fire.”

Turning back, Fitzroy just barely managed to catch a glimpse of heavy smoke through a gap in the trees. His hands flew to his mouth and Amir worried the boy would collapse. Before he could reah out, Fitz started running. 

“Mom!” Fitz cried as he ran toward the smoke, Amir following behind. 

When Fitz arrived, his home had almost completely collapsed. The skeletal remains of his mother’s house and garden stood enrobed in black and surrounded by ash. The forest around the structure was clear. It was almost as if lightning struck, but by the smell in the air, Fitz knew it was intentional. 

He ran toward what was left and kept calling for his mother. Spying the untouched shovel laying beside the burned garden, he grabbed it and went to the ash. Had she sheltered in the root cellar? Was she alive? What would he find in the ruins? Gingerly sifting through the debris, his shovel hit something solid. He dug in and uncovered his mother’s ‘treasure chest.’ He felt numb as he moved it. It was still full. His mother wouldn’t have left it behind willingly; the chest held everything she brought with her from her old life. 

Setting aside his shovel, Fitz knelt in the ash and touched the lid. He’d only dared try to open it once and his mother’s fury was spectacular when she caught him. At the time, he’d thought about cutting the knot she used as a lock, but decided against it since she would know. So he tried to learn how to tie it by untying it and was only halfway through when she'd caught him. The twine knot had burned away. In spite of himself he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn’t going to magically spring out at him. Only Amir was near, he’d taken the shovel and was poking through ash piles. Turning back to the chest, he looked inside. 

A book and a letter sat on top of some old clothes in the chest. He put the aside and opened the letter. He groaned when he realized it had only been half-written. 

*Fitz. No time to explain. It’s no longer safe. Shortly after you left I was contacted by an old friend. Keep *it* safe and bring it to the Hollow of the Kings. We’ll meet you at...*

“My mom’s fine. An old friend found her and told her to leave,” Fitz said. "She probably set the fire herself. She's a little dramatic like that."

Amir sighed in relief and set down the shovel. “Oh good. I didn’t want to be insensitive but I noticed there wasn’t any trace of bones or bone fragments. Usually after a fire this bad that’s all that’s left.”

Fitzroy put the unpleasant mental image aside and stood up. Dusting the ash from his hands on his trousers, he sighed. “She left before finishing telling me where to meet her. Or when. But I’m supposed to take the venom to the Hollow.”

“What about the book?” Amir asked. 

Fitzroy shrugged. He'd never seen the book before, but it looked a little old. He put it and the letter in his bag. “Probably an old diary. I’ll look at it later. We need to go. If someone else burned the house down they’re probably still...”

A buzzing sound filled the air. Before Fitzroy could react, a giant hornet flew in and hovered over the piles of ash. Its wings disturbed some of the ash as it went around. 

Drawing his sword, Amir stepped forward confidently. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

Fitzroy couldn’t move quickly enough. “Amir, no!”

Amir struck the hornet from behind, beheading it in one blow. “See? No problem. I’m actually better at this than I thought.”

Fitz grabbed Amir’s sleeve and yanked him out of the house. The Eastern prince barely managed to sheath his sword before they broke into a run. Behind them, the buzzing had intensified a hundredfold. 

“Fitz what’s going on?” Amir asked. 

Fitzroy put on an extra burst of speed. “When a murder hornet dies it releases a signal that calls other members of its colony to come and attack. We need to get far away as soon as possible.”

They ran until their lungs burned and legs ached. Finally Amir tripped and fell. Fitz turned around to help him up and realized the buzzing didn’t seem to be following them. As he looked up, he realized why. “Amir there’s a storm coming in. We’re saved! Murder hornets hate rain.”

“How...are we...going to find...shelter from the storm?” Amir asked. 

“Well, we’re pretty close to the...caves,” Fits said, recognizing the nearby rocky outcropping. 

Amir glanced around. “Are they safe? No animals inside?”

“Uh, yeah. They’re regular caverns of safety. I’ve weathered a storm or two inside.” After a pause, Fitz added, “As long as we don’t go too deep.”

“What happens if we go too deep?” Amir asked.

“Well...we could...get lost!” Fitz said, strangely. 

Amir’s eyes narrowed and he made a gesture telling Fitz to continue. 

Fitzroy held his hands up. “It’s a maze in there. And it’s like always warm. C’mon, let’s get inside before we get drenched.”


End file.
